The Love Tussle

A story that every girl has experienced, falling for a guy who is already in a relationship and the fight to win him.


3. The Call

The Call

His subconscious struggled to comprehend the annoying buzzing sound, initially trying to find a place or at the very least a rational reason for it in his dream but gradually the inescapable realisation that it was external became annoyingly apparent. Why, when he’s in the final stages of constructing his very own microbrewery, a brewery that he had longed for since his first sip of the golden liquid at the age of 14, and when he’s just moments, literally moments, away from sampling the first keg of beer should that buzzing disturb his industry and dissipate the dream. How very unfair the mind of the gradually waking Fifi thought, how inconsiderate!

The luminous hands of the bedside clock show it’s 4:30am. Blinking several times, whilst trying to shrug off the fog of sleep, Fifi lays rigid gazing at the ceiling digesting that information. Slowing rolling onto his side and propping himself on an elbow, he reaches for his mobile, cursing his stupidity for not putting it on silent. Focusing on the screen and the small flashing light he sees that there are several missed calls and 3 messages from Klara. As if it’s weight could no longer be supported by his neck, he slowly lowers his head back down onto the pillow from where he watches the duvet rise and fall slightly with each breath inhaled and expelled through his nose, and contemplates what to do. “You have 3 new messages, vodafone will now play your first message”.

“Hi Fifi, having a great evening we’re in Cocos, pity you couldn’t join us (giggle, hiccup, giggle) call me”

“Hi Fifi, I’m heading home now, call me when you get in please”

”Fifi, where the bloody hell are you!? I’ve called several times, I need to talk with you, call me asap!!!”.

Ok, Ok he thinks as he pushes his finger into the centre of Klara’s face pictured on the small screen and hears the sound of the digits being dialled.

“Hi Fifeeeee” from her slurred speech it’s obvious she’s had a very good evening. Oh my god Fifi thinks, recalling the time several years ago when after a similar big night out, Klara fondly wished everyone, friends and strangers alike, goodnight and rode off on her bike only to topple sideways trying to negotiate first corner barely 20 metre away and lay there under the bicycle on the wet pavement giggling. “hope I haven’t disturb you Fifi?”

“Of course you’ve disturbed me Klara, it’s 4:30 in the morning, what’s so damn important!?”

“No need to be like that Fifi! I just thought you’d want to be the first to know, it’s over!”

“Err, what’s over?”

“Florence won’t be coming to the gym any more, it’s over”

“Ohhhhh, really, are you sure?”


“Wow, I guess that’s good… get some sleep now Klara sounds like you need it, I’ll call you later OK?”

Dropping the mobile back onto the bedside table, having first taken care to put it in silent mode, Fifi turns and gently kisses his still sleeping pregnant wife’s cheek. In a couple of weeks they are expecting the birth of their twin daughters. His last thought before returning to his microbrewery was, that’s good, that’s very good no more stress or at least not for the next 15 years, until the girls start dating!

Post Script

1:57 a.m. 1st January a smiling slightly tipsy Fifi on his way home from seeing in the New Year listens to his voicemail and immediately turns ashen white as the blood drains from his face, oh my god he mutters, there’s a new love interest!

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